The Fine Acoustics
by outoftuneguitar
Summary: Jill didn't think to much of the lonely traveler she just met, but when another one comes into the picture things change. She starts feeling a little jealous and she can't figure out why. On top of that, her farming isn't going well.
1. One

**The Fine Acoustics**

**Chapter One: **

Jill sat on the cold fence overlooking her barren field. The early morning frost was crisp over the dead grass, and a few snow flakes caressed her sweet chilled cheeks. The first few rays of sun beamed through her closed eyes. She sat there, content, with her hands in the pockets of her thin purple sweatshirt; she could feel the cool metal of the zipper on her pale chest. A soft, almost inaudible melody filled the air, and Jill imagined the notes tangling her ponytail instead of the frigid breeze. Jill started to hum.

A long moment passed and the song began to fade, but it remained imprisoned in her mind, leaving Jill with a bittersweet flavor in the back of her throat. It was a sad kind of song; the kind of song that gave you a feeling of melancholy.

"Jill, is that you?" called an aged voice. It was Takakura, her father's old friend.

Tak was an old man around his late 50's. He lived in a log cabin at the edge of the property and used to run this farm with Jill's father before he died. He had a leathery creased face from working in the sun all day and thick graying eyebrows that shadowed his eyes, but it gave him a sort of gruff, sweet-guy appearance.

Jill cracked her eyes open-an enticing purple. "Yes! Hello!" she shouted and waved. He was standing in front of the barn doors on the opposite side of the field.

"It's nice to see you again!" He yelled back. Jill jumped off the fence and jogged over to him, some melting snow getting in her sneakers.

They hugged.

"How are you doing?" Tak asked as he patted her back and parted from the embrace.

"Fine. A bit excited." Jill smiled. "What 'bout you, Tacky?"

"Good." the old man motioned for her to come inside the barn. "I have something for you to help you get started farming. I'm so glad you decided to take over Pete's farm; it means a lot to me." Takakura pulled open the heavy barn doors and they stepped inside. Jill was thankful for the warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket as they walked over to a feeding trough where a small black and white cow stood.

She clasped a hand over her mouth. "You got me a _cow_!"

Tak nodded.

Jill squealed and squeezed the man again. "Thank you so much! Does she have a name?"

He grinned, deep laugh lines carving his face. "Anything for my old friend's daughter. You're just like one to myself." He looked back at the cow. "I thought you'd want to name her."

Jill let out another whine and clapped her small hands together once. "I have the perfect name for her! Wendy!"

Furrowing his bushy brow in thought, Takakura finally said, "I like it. Wendy the Cow." and then Jill smiled a grand toothy grin.

* * *

Gustafa sat alone at the counter in the Blue Bar. He had his head propped up on an elbow and held a half empty glass of beer in the other, sighing. After he finished it, Muffy, the barmaid, took the empty glass and washed it with a soapy rag, her green eyes glittering in the low light.

Muffy thought Gustafa was a sweet man. He had only been in the valley for a few months. Though he was a traveler, he stayed long. She'd seen him play his guitar against a tree near his tent, thinking it was such a lovely sound.

And he's so decent looking, she thought. He had such a pleasant face, kind of rectangular, with a cleft chin and a slightly too long, too large, curved nose. Muffy couldn't tell what color his eyes were because he always wore purple sunglasses, even inside, but she always imagined them to be a deep brown. He had weeks of 5 o' clock shadow that evened out his features. Gustafa wore an earthy green hat and other hippie-like stripes and tie-dyed shirts with brown bell-bottom jeans. And when Muffy had leaned in to take his order, she could smell the incense on him.

"Why the long face, Gustafa?" Muffy asked now in her New York accent after drying and putting the clean cup away. "Looked a bit down this whole evening."

"Nothing," he replied softly, scratching the hair on his chin and pushing his sunglasses up with his thumb. "Just a bit tired. . ."

Muffy flipped a curly lock of hair over her shoulder. He has such a sweet, calming voice. I wonder why he doesn't sing, she wondered. "I heard you playing early this morning."

"Did you?" Gustafa didn't seem to be surprised.

"It was such a pretty song. You should play here sometime!" the waitress gushed.

"N...no. I don't even know how long I'm gonna be staying here." he drummed his fingers over the counter lazily in the rhythm of one of his songs.

"Oh, right."

A small group of men came in and sat down at the bar next to Gustafa and Muffy immediately took their order. Gustafa wasn't really too keen on their loud jabbering, so he left a tip and got up off the stool he was sitting on. "See you later, Muffy." he said over his shoulder and walked out of the valley's only bar.

* * *

**A/N: I just got my friend to edit this for me.**

**Reveiw please! :)**


	2. Two

********

The Fine Acoustics

Chapter Two:

Forget-Me-Not Valley was a peaceful place that always seemed to have a light breeze blowing through its trees. The air was always slightly cooler than anywhere else Gustafa had traveled to, and it smelled sweeter-of cherry blossoms and rain. He leaned back against the tree he was lazing under, his green pointed hat tilted in way that made the soft rain trickle in a puddle along the rim and drip down on the end of his nose. The back of his red and brown striped shirt was soaked and his hands were clammy, but Gustafa kept on playing his guitar, unsure of what the name of the tune was.

He felt one with the earth, like he could morph into the tree and be at peace forever. The birds were chirping, the early risers of the valley walking by with little interest as he hummed along absently, his voice gentle and deep in the back of his throat. Gustafa loved how the rhythm felt under his fingertips as he lazily strummed, the vibration comforting. He pictured a clock slowly ticking away; the perfect beat accompanying the melody.

* * *

Jill slept, and slept, and slept unaware of the new spring day stirring all around her. A few rays of sun shown through the clouds and the rain, dancing through the needles of the thick pine tree beside her cabin and in the old window, tickling the side of her face in warm ribbons. The birds could be heard singing merrily from a nest nestled in the barn rafters as Wendy mooed at them in protest. The villagers were already out, bustling about their busy days.

Jill was so blissful curled up under her fluffy down comforter as the digital clock on the nightstand beside her bed clicked to the changed minute, reading 8:04 AM. The world held still for a silent moment before the girl shot up, realizing she had slept in yet again. She jumped out of bed, the old springs sighing with the relief of her weight, and ran to her dresser shamelessly in her underwear.

"Crap!" she huffed, rustling through the top drawer for a fresh pair of undies and a bra. "Crap! Crap! Crap!" Jill quickly changed into the first old ones she could find, plus, a T-shirt and jeans. She roughly brushed her messy brown hair and tied it up in a ponytail, not caring how lumpy it was. She pulled on some socks and dashed to the door where she kept her boots, rushing to lace them up. Then she pulled open the door, her mood worsening at the sight of the rain and how muddy everything was.

"Oh crap." she sighed and hulled out to the barn, getting soaked on the way.

By this time Jill had been on the farm for nearly two weeks and everything was going along just fine. She had caught on right away when Takakura taught her how to care for her cow. She milked her twice a day by hand and brushed her once, only letting her out to graze when there was good weather. Tak had also been kind enough to buy her a few bags of potato seeds, which she planted in neat little rows in the plot beside her house.

* * *

Around noon the rain let up some and finally stopped altogether. Jill looked up at the sky from where she was kneeling in the mud pulling weeds, a thankful look on her face as she stood reaching up to the heavens like she was embracing the rays of sunshine that peered around the clouds to warm her cold skin. "Oh thank Goddess!" She sighed. Then she took off her damp muddy gloves and walked toward her house, a nice hot shower on her mind.

When she opened the door however, all thoughts of relaxation left her mind. She stepped in a puddle and slipped much like a cartoon character would on a bananna peel and fell on her ass. Jill cried out in pain, rubbing the place of impact. She carefully got up and stepped over the rest of the water, looking up to see a tiny crack in the ceiling where it looked to be a giant coffee stain and a drop of water dripped down on her nose.

"Oh fuck." She said, ambling over to her kitchen. She came back with some towls and a pot which she set squarely under the leek and cleaned up the mess with. "I bet Takakura would know how to fix this."

She ran out the door at that thought and past the small shipping building to Tak's little house. "Taaaaaaakakuuuuuuuuura!" She called as she knocked on his door.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if it was a long wait. I'm just really lazy.**

Review and I'll be your best friend!


	3. Three

**The Fine Acoustics**

**Chapter Three:**

Suddenly the stillness of the valley broke with the loud "THWACK!" of wood against wood, and the music stopped abruptly. Gustafa opened his eyes and straightened his hat, startled and confused. Tim, one of the innkeepers at the Inner Inn, that was about a football field away from where he was sitting, had just dropped a tall creaky latter on the main cobblestone road a few yards away. He stood stretching his back with both of his hands supporting the sore spot, groaning.

Tim was a stout middle aged man with dark almond shaped eyes, and a slowly receding hairline. He and his wife, Ruby, were travelers, and when they came across Forget-Me-Not, they just couldn't leave.

Something about this place drew people in, Gustafa thought as his mind wondered over the few things he knew about the man struggling with the latter in front of him. He got up, swung his guitar around behind his back, and walked up to help him.

"Where are we going with this, man?" He asked as he heaved it up on his shoulder, realizing it was heavier than he thought.

"Just up hill to Forget-Me-Not farm." Tim said gratefully in his slight Japanese accent, pointing in the right direction.

"Groovy."

They walked the short distance to the entrance of the farm and Gustafa sat the old latter down for a moment, looking around. The property was big, spacious, and nothing but mud from the rain. There was a log cabin to his left, a huge barn across from it with a wide fenced in area, a few sheds, and another slightly bigger cabin sitting in the shade of a pine tree at the far left corner. Beside that house was a square patch of mud with tiny green sprouts poking through the earth, a chicken coop and a small fenced in area, and then another tilled area.

Gustafa just wanted to stand there and breathe for a moment to take in the earthy smell of the rain and the cow manure, but he couldn't.

* * *

Jill wasn't a patient person when it came to fixing things, so as soon as she saw the two men standing outside her house with the latter, she burst out the door with Takakura in tow, telling them in vivid detail about awful her day has become because of her stupid roof.

"After all that painting Tak did, this is what happens!" she ranted as Tim set up the latter. "You should see how ugly the ceiling looks now; it's a disaster!" She barely noticed the strange look she was getting from the unfamiliar man standing beside her as she added, on the verge of breaking down, "All I asked for was one nice hot shower, a nice hot shower and maybe an hour to read, or to take a nap, or something! But no, I have to deal with this and now the ceiling in the bathroom is dripping."

"Can't be so bad." He said under is hat. "I live in a yurt. At least you have a bathroom." And then he left.


	4. Four

**The Fine Acoustics**

**Chapter Four:**

Jill was sitting in the Blue Bar with her head propped heavily in one hand, her gaze fixed on the golden liquid she was swirling in her glass. She raised the glass to her lips and took a small sip, sighing. Then she put it down and dropped her head into her arms.

* * *

Gustafa opened the door to the Blue Bar, taking a gulp of the thick smoky air. Light Jazz music lingered in the background of the conversation. Atmosphere, he thought, as he pulled out a stool at the bar and sat down.

"What'll it be?" asked Muffy.

"Moo Moo Milk." He said, and she poured him a glass. As Gustafa sat there drinking, he looked around and noticed a fresh face in the bar scene. He got up and moved three stools over next to Jill.

"I don't think there's one bad soul in this town. You could get passed out drunk if you wanted and nothing would probably happen to you."

Jill turned her head to the side and answered glumly, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You can't. You can only choose whether or not to trust me."

Just then, Jill turned back into her arm and started sobbing uncontrollably. Gustafa was shocked.

"Hey, man, it can't be all that bad." he objected. He looked over for Muffy, and she came rushing over and tried talking to her.

"Come on, Jill, aren't you embarrassed crying out here? Why don't I take you up to my room and we can talk."

* * *

Muffy and Jill were sitting in her room, each on a puffy pink chair by the dressing table. The whole room was pink, frilly, and lacey. Muffy was giving Jill a makeover.

"You know, I was a city girl, too." said Muffy as she uncapped a tube of red lipstick and rolled it up.

"Why did you move here?" Jill asked.

"I was tired of the same old scenes and the mess of the crowd." Muffy started filling in Jill's lips with the lipstick. "Now rub them together like this. Anyway, I've had my fill of the city and all the rotten people in it. I've had my heart broken too many times and my back stabbed by every friend I've ever had. My last boyfriend threw me down the stairs. That's where I got this little scar on my cheek. I banged it against the railing. Ruined that dress."

"That's terrible."

"It is, but I don't feel sorry for myself. Not anymore at least." Muffy explained as she dug through her makeup bag. "I'm stronger now, and here my life is so much more filling. I'm really sorry that you're having such a hard time, though. The only thing I can tell you is to ask Takakura for some help, or even ask Celia or Vesta at the other little farm across the river. They know a lot about vegetables." She took out some eye shadow and a brush. "Now this is your color! You're eyes are such a deep blue, almost purple. It's so pretty, I've never seen anything like it."

Suddenly, Jill was filled with a new confidence. She had a friend.


End file.
